


Day of the Dead- A Destiel One-Shot

by Fangirling_FTW



Series: Destiel One-Shots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10 X 18, Angel Castiel, Angst, Biting, Bottom Dean, Canon Compliant, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Demon Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Mark of Cain, Mild Painplay, Mostly porn, Porn With Plot, Smut, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Very light on the Dom/sub, canonical, dark tones, dom Cas, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5511770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mark of Cain has Dean itching for a fix, struggling with the demon within him.  After losing the Book of the Damned, and their only hope, he can't stop himself from giving into the temptation Castiel presents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day of the Dead- A Destiel One-Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys!! So I heard the song "Day of the Dead" by Hollywood Undead, and was quite impressed with how the first verse fits with Dean when he's in his dark places (Endverse, purgatory, MoC, etc) and as I listened to the song this one shot popped into my head.
> 
> It's my very first attempt at writing non- vanilla sex, so don't judge me too hard. I'm a fluff addicted writer who loves her happy endings and her cute and cuddly sweetness, so this was WAY out of my comfort zone, and totally different than anything I'd worked on before.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!! XD Leave me comments, I will answer each and every one of you amazing peoples.

_We come from a world of oblivion, bad dreams_  
_I got all I need strapped right to my hamstring_  
_I'm not really bad, I'm just made up of bad things_  
_I'm really not a mad man, the voices keep asking_  
_Born with a soul that don't wanna be saved_  
_Every time I look around I see what a fiend made_  
_Every time I die, I hope they digging up my grave_  
_An undead one like the flag that I wave_  
_I'm not afraid to cry from this cocaine sickness_  
_I'm not afraid to die, let the good book witness_  
_I ask and give none, nope, no forgiveness_  
_The day of the dead and you're on our hit list_

**_***_ **

How did it come to this?

Dean clenched his right hand, feeling the muscles pull taut under his skin, pulling at the angry red mark on his forearm. What was the exact moment everything had pivoted to lead him to this point? He clenched his right hand again, sitting in the Impala, staring out the windshield at room 14, in some no name motel.

He supposed it didn't matter now. The Book of the Damned was gone, along with their best hope of removing the Mark of Cain from his arm. He didn't blame Sam for taking off, in fact it had been a slight relief when he'd found his brother and one of the cars they kept in the garage missing. That way he wouldn't have to deal with the look in his eyes, knowing Dean was going to die.

No, worse than that.

He was becoming a demon again.

A Knight of Hell.

Who could only be killed by the First Blade.

Which only he could use.

Was it wrong of him to hope that, when he finally felt the demon taking over, he had the strength to stab himself in the heart? It was the only thing he had left at this point.

The burn of the Mark at that thought spurred him into motion, climbing out of Baby and walking towards the door, pulling his key out of his pocket. For as long as he could, he was going to fight the dark feelings in his chest. For Sam, mostly, because while he could he needed to keep taking care of his baby brother. He was fighting for Charlie, too, she'd been dragged into their crap one too many times as it was. He turned the key in the deadbolt, opening the door and catching a glimpse of Castiel. Yeah, maybe he was fighting for their broken angel, too. Everyone who made contact with Dean died, bloody and awful, and he'd be damned if he's let these precious few friends he had left meet that same end.

So while Sam was off wrapping his head around Dean's fate, Dean did what he's always done: hunt. Which is why he was out in the middle of nowhere in Iowa, clearing out a nest of vampires, and why he was staying in this shithole of a motel for the third night in a row with an angel in the other bed. He couldn't get Castiel to stop going on hunts with him. He managed to convince Dean to bring him along while Sam was gone, and it was starting to feed into Dean's anger instead of helping it. At first Dean didn't mind too much, he had his mojo back, it was helpful. As the two weeks wore on, the Angel started getting clingy, fussing over Dean's wounds after hunts, and hovering around the bunker reading this or that manuscript.

Dean walked across the motel room, kicking off his boots and dropping down on the edge of one of the beds, scrubbing a hand over his stubble and wincing at the bruise on his jaw from a lucky hit one of the bloodsuckers had landed on him. Castiel glanced up at him from the other bed, concerned but cautious, and Dean did his best to ignore the pain in his eyes when he looked at him.

After each hunt, the Mark had him on a high, adrenaline from the fight and satisfaction with the kill blending into a rush better than any drug. As time wore on, that rush was getting stronger, pushing him for more. After Sam had cured him months ago, he could fill that need with booze and sex. Just like any addict, as time wore on he found himself needing bigger hits to calm his cravings. Hell, he'd even tried actual drugs, but nothing came close to the feeling he got when a monster's blood ran through his fingers, when the life faded from the eyes of his prey. He was enjoying killing too much, and no matter how badly he hated himself for it he couldn't stop that excitement from flooding through him each time.

It made him sick.

He was _still_ coming down off the last high, when he and Cas had found and wiped out the nest, his skin buzzing with the need for _more_. More what, Dean wasn't sure, but just... _more_. He still had blood on his clothes and skin from the last vamp he'd killed, even though they'd finished the hunt and disposed of the bodies almost two hours ago. He'd dropped Cas off at the motel and went out, driving the Impala aimlessly while he shook for a hit like a fucking junkie. He told Cas it was for food, but the honest answer was he just couldn't be around Cas when he was like that. He didn't want Cas to see how the thrill of the kill affected him. He was ashamed, embarrassed. And tempted.

Oh _so_ tempted.

He had looked over at Cas after killing the last vamp, and as the blood flowed down the machete over his skin, he'd locked eyes with the bloody and battered angel. Adrenaline rushed through his body and he'd felt a hunger for the Angel burn in his gut, a hunger he hadn't felt in years.

_Since purgatory..._

Something had changed in purgatory, something unspoken and buried deep in them both. Their hold over each other had grown during their time there, yet Dean felt that both he and Castiel were pushing away those memories, even if he couldn't figure out why. Since he was cured of being a demon, it was like every emotion and desire he'd ever felt was magnified by the Mark, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep fighting it anymore.   He noticed Cas had used his mojo to clean himself and his clothes after the fight, but he didn't offer the same for Dean when he returned. He had learned not to after Dean nearly stabbed him a few hunts ago. Dean could hardly bear the feeling of Cas' touch when they were just sitting in the library and the Mark was calm. Right after a hunt he wasn't sure _what_ that touch would do to him.

The demon in him recoiled at the presence of the Angel, but the human in him craved to be closer.

He stood and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower water to scalding and pulling his bloody clothes off. The water flowed over his skin, stinging his minor wounds, washing the vamp blood from his skin and flowing red down the drain of the tub. He clenched his right hand again, trying to fight the need the Mark was begging for. To kill, to fuck, to drink, to just give into the demon under his skin. He'd normally go out to a bar and find some way to ride this out, but his subconscious didn't want to leave. He punched the tile in frustration, adding another cut and a bruise to the collection he was sporting from the hunt, surprised he managed not to break his hand.

He climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips and moving out to the room, rooting around in his duffle bag for some clean underwear and a shirt. He could feel Cas' eyes on his back, and the thought made the mark buzz.

"This ain't a show, Cas," he muttered, finding his clothes and moving back to the bathroom.

"I could heal your wounds," was all Cas said back. Dean kicked the door closed partially for privacy and dropped the towel.

"It's a few scratches, it's not a big deal," Dean answered through the door. There was a heavy pause.

"Those aren't the only wounds you've acquired, Dean," was all Cas said. Dean finished pulling on his boxers, hanging up the towel and tugging his shirt over his head. He walked back out of the bathroom, only shooting a brief look at Cas before falling in bed.

"I'm getting my four hours," Dean muttered, rolling so his back was to Cas. He was still buzzing too badly to sleep, but he didn't want to talk to Cas at this point.

"You need help, Dean." _Could he not take a hint?_ Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas. Me. Sleeping."

"It's been two weeks since I reaquired my grace. Two weeks listening to you crying out for help, and I can't ignore it anymore." Dean sat up, looking over at the Angel. It had been a while since he'd been around Cas at full power, he forgot how easily he picked up on Dean's thoughts.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"No, you're not."

"I can still hunt, and I'm not a demon. I'll take what I can get," Dean snapped. The buzz had turned into a subtle vibration, humming along his skin, making him antsy. Cas stood, moving to sit on Dean's bed. His eyes stared at Dean long enough to make Dean uncomfortable before he finally spoke.

"We will find a way," Cas said. Dean frowned.

"No we won't," he spat harshly. "What is it with you and Sam, huh? Why can't you just accept this and move on?"

"Because we love you," Cas said simply. The vibration on Dean's skin turned into a full electric shock. _No_. No, he would not open that door.

"Well you two need to grow the fuck up. Just because you care about someone doesn't mean you can force a miracle into existence," he growled. Cas was undeterred by his anger.

"Dean, why can't you-"

"Just get it in your head, Cas! This shit," he held up the mark, and Cas flinched, "this shit isn't going away. Ever."

"You don't know-" Dean grabbed hold of Cas' coat and shoved hard, throwing him from the bed to sprawl on the motel room floor. He felt the dark place in his mind start to show some interest.

"Don't I? Do you even know what this is _doing_ to me? Do you know why I've been hunting like fucking crazy?" Cas' brow was furrowed, not with fear, but confusion, and there was anger creeping into his eyes. Dean ignored it, his voice rising as he spoke. "I can't stop this, Cas. I'm starting to like it." _There_ was Cas' fear. "I'm going to turn sooner than you think, and if you're under the impression this 'bond' we have is going to save you once I'm gone..." Cas was up on his feet suddenly, grabbing hold of Dean's shirt and shaking him slightly as he crowded into his space.

"I will do _everything_ in my power to stop that from happening," he shouted back in Dean's face. Dean knocked his hands away, shoving back against him, but Cas kept his footing and grabbed Dean's wrist, using the leverage to turn Dean slightly. However Cas was planning to subdue him, Dean was having none of it, and he spun into the momentum Cas created and swung a punch square into the angel's face. Cas recovered quickly as Dean was turning to square off, and grabbed hold of Dean's shoulders again, attempting to keep him in place. Dean rushed him, ducking his shoulder and ramming Cas' chest. Cas stumbled, his shins hitting the bed and he tumbled back into it. Dean was on him immediately, holding him down in place and grabbing hold of his arms as Cas struggled to push him off.

The fight didn't take long, or much effort, but both of them were breathing heavily, and as Dean's anger faded slightly, that thrumming vibration in his skin evened out, pulsing steadily like a heartbeat, but the rhythm wasn't his. His eyes widened as he looked at Cas spread underneath him, the demon in him purring in delight at the sight of the Angel subdued below him.

For once, the human agreed.

"Cas..." His voice was wrecked, _want_ pulsing through him unchecked and unbridled. _Just like purgatory... On cold nights, when they could only sleep for an hour at a time..._  
Dean wasn't even sure why it started, but being in purgatory made it hard to deny both emotional and bodily desires. He'd taken Cas, hard and fast, claiming Cas' virginity brutally in the dirt, giving into years of repressed feelings. A few nights later Cas had fucked him against a tree, Dean had practically bitten through his lip to keep from screaming as Cas claimed him in return. Dean had made himself forget once he got back, and it seemed Cas had also been content with forgetting.

Now, with the mark bearing down on Dean's soul, that same instinct, that same _need_ for relief was magnified tenfold.

"Do it, Dean. You need it. I-... I need it," Cas practically _begged_. The demon inside him let out a pleased growl, and Dean leaned down, capturing Cas' mouth in a punishing kiss, teeth and tongues wrestling for dominance. Dean leaned back, pushing the coat from Cas' shoulders and literally ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying. Cas' fingers were scrambling with Dean's shirt, pulling it over his head before returning to attack his mouth again. Cas' hands were fire, searing into his skin as they trailed over his torso. He finished pulling the coat and shirt off Cas' body, dropping his head to suck bruises into Cas, throat, little chills running through him as Cas grunted in pleasure. Blunt nails dragged down Dean's back, pushing past the hem of Dean's boxers to grab his ass, pulling Dean's hips down against Cas' growing erection. Dean pulled back, smirking at the trail of red marks over Cas' throat and shoulders before sliding down Cas' legs.

"You gonna dirty yourself with me, Angel?" Dean purred, deft fingers undoing his pants and pulling them off. "You gonna enjoy the filthy things this demon does to you?" Cas' eyes flashed, and he leaned forward, pulling Dean down to the bed, dropping him chest first against the sheets and climbing over top of him, his hard shaft pressed against Dean's lower back.

"Don't call yourself that," he growled in Dean's ear as he leaned over him, and Dean felt a tongue and teeth tracing the curve of his shoulder blades, hard nips against his skin causing his hips to roll into the mattress below him.

"It's what I am, it's what I'm becoming," Dean grunted, pushing back against Cas' weight, managing to get his arms underneath him and lifting them up. Cas leaned back, sitting on his heels, and Dean settled in his lap, leaning back against his chest and reaching behind him into Cas' hair, pulling hard. Cas hissed at the pain, pressing his lips against Dean's neck before biting at the skin there. He rolled back into Cas' cock, and Cas' hands wrapped around his stomach, his nails digging hard into his skin. Pure animal passion was all Dean could think about, his need for the Angel painful in its intensity. He rolled his hips again and gave a sharp pull on Cas' hair, and he found himself being lifted and turned, Cas manhandling him like he weighed nothing. He was thrown down on his back in the bed, but before Cas could move to cover him again Dean kicked out with his left foot, connecting with Cas' chest and pushing him back just long enough to climb to his knees and force Cas down into the mattress.

"Dean-" Cas' eyes were dark with desire, but there was too much emotion there, too many feelings that would make this too personal. The demon in him hissed at those emotions. Dean couldn't do emotional tonight, the demon was too strong and the human was too tired to fight. He slid his left hand over Cas' throat, squeezing just hard enough to stop him from talking. The demon was excited about it, and Dean had a hard time keeping his grip loose enough to allow Cas air.

"No," Dean said, kneeling above Cas' chest, his knees holding his arms down by the elbows. His dick had slipped through the slit on his boxers, hard and begging for attention. Cas' eyes widened as they darted to it, then back to Dean. Dean smirked, running his right thumb over the bruise forming on Cas' cheek from where he'd struck him, digging in against the bone and making Cas wince. "Well, what are you waiting for Angel?" he purred, running his hand up into his hair and pulling. Cas leaned forward, pushing against the hand at his throat and taking Dean's pulsing member into his mouth, sucking greedily. Dean pulled his hand away from Cas' throat and grunted in appreciation, watching Cas' kiss swollen lips taking him down over and over. He kept a firm grip on the back of Cas' head, forcing him deeper till he felt himself hit the back of Cas' throat. " _Fuck_!" Dean gasped out, and Cas hummed around him, swallowing around Dean's cock, the wet warmth squeezing tight around him pulled a deep moan from his throat. He began to steadily fuck into Cas' mouth, taking his pleasure from the man below him with punishing force. "Look at you, Angel," he groaned, the nickname said with a leer, no endearment in Dean's voice, he was too far gone for that. Cas let out an inhuman growl, the subtle scrape of Cas' teeth along his length sent a jolt straight up his spine, and he growled, thrusting harder as he felt his release building. Cas' eyes were clouded in lust, staring up at Dean as he neared his edge, helpless against Dean's movements.

With a sharp cry, he slid from Cas' mouth, spilling his release over his chin and neck, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in his orgasm. When he opened his eyes again to look down at Cas, he caught his reflection in the mirror across the room.

Black eyes faded back to green, but the demon was still the one smiling back at him.

He looked down at Cas, the sticky fluid covering his face making the demon purr. He slid down his chest, settling over his lap, dragging his nails deep along the angel's chest. Small red lines appeared, another mark making the body below him his. Before he had a chance to fully recover from the post orgasm high, Cas bucked underneath him, throwing him backwards into the headboard hard.  
" _Shit_!" he grunted, rubbing at his head where it had hit the wood. Cas hastily wiped his face and neck on the sheets, getting up on his knees and grabbing hold of Dean's legs, tugging him down to meet his body like Dean weighed nothing. It was easy to forget that under those clothes and that human body, Cas was a full blooded warrior of heaven.

"You really think you were going to get away with that," Cas growled, his voice a deep rumble that set Dean's nerves tingling. He tried to push out from under Cas, but even though Cas was barely struggling, Dean couldn't move against his hold. He took both of Dean's wrists in one hand, holding them still against Dean's chest and with the other ripped off both pairs of boxers. "You can't get away from me," Cas' voice rumbled as he leaned in to nip marks into Dean's neck. "No matter what you do, how bad you get, I'm going to be right here."

"No matter how many I kill? You really gonna watch your poor lost charge murder just to appease this disease inside him?" Dean grumbled. The demon was getting angry, but the human side was finally waking up, trying to subdue the demon so he could enjoy Cas' taking control. Cas bit hard just below Dean's collarbone, breaking the skin just above his tattoo, and Dean cried out as his body rose to Cas'. The shock of pain melted into pleasure as Cas lapped at his mark, moving upwards, tracing his lips and tongue along Dean's jaw. When he pulled back to meet Dean's eyes, there were a few drops of blood on his lips, and Dean shuddered underneath him.

"How are you going to stop me?" Cas asked in a voice that was dripping sex. Dean was starting to feel the blood flowing into his cock already, Cas' body burning into his skin where they touched. Dean tried to break his hands free of his grasp, struggling against the man above him, but every struggle set Cas to sucking bruises into another part of his skin, rolling his own hard cock against Dean's hip. His eyes flared blue for the briefest moment, and he became almost animalistic as he effortlessly lifted Dean into the position he wanted. Cas used his free hand to take hold of Dean's hip, rolling him over onto his hands and knees, wrapping his body around him, keeping hold of his hands. Dean could feel the blood from the bite on his chest dripping down his skin, and it set his body quivering in anticipation. "What's the matter?" Cas whispered darkly, his cock rubbing along the cleft of Dean's ass. A small groan escaped Dean, and he felt Cas push his shoulders down into the mattress, his hips still high in the air, unable to move except to turn his head and watch Cas over his shoulder.

"You gonna fuck me, Angel? Take this demon, let 'em taint your pretty wings?" The words weren't Dean's. The demon in him was still struggling for control against the body above him, pushing against his weight and his grip, but making no progress against the inhumanly strong being above him. Cas reached around, digging his nail into the bite mark on his chest, making Dean cry out at the pain.

"Stop fighting me," Cas growled, "you can't win." Cas' other hand grabbed hold of his half hard cock, still sensitive from being sucked off just minutes before, pumping till he was fully erect again. Dean was whining, he couldn't stop himself, there was nothing he could do against the Angel controlling him.

Dean felt himself forcibly pulled up onto his hands and knees, Cas' touch a searing brand against his shoulder as he held him, and Dean caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror again. The most subtle shadow of broken wings was hovering behind Cas, a dull blue glow in his eyes, and Dean's own face, slack with want, his eyes dark with lust... or possibly with something darker. A slick hand rubbed against his entrance and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to care where or how Cas had found lube, just glad Cas was where he needed him. Without warning or preparation, he slid two fingers into Dean, making his head fall back and a shout escape his lips. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but the pain lit up his nerves, sending warm pulses through his body.

"You want this?" Cas growled into his ear, pumping his fingers hard and fast, pushing into the tight muscle surrounding them.

" _Fuck_ \- y-yes," Dean gasped out. A third finger slid in and Dean's hips bucked into Cas' hand, seeking that place inside himself, desperate for contact.

"Beg," Cas grunted, folding himself over Dean's body, teeth digging into his shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood this time, but it still made Dean arch his back. Cas' fingers still kept away from his prostate, and his other hand ran down his back to his hip, holding Dean still, fingers digging bruises into his skin.

"Please, Angel, _please_ fuck me," Dean gasped, choking off in a broken moan when fingers finally hit his prostate. "Wanna- wanna feel you come," he continued breathlessly. Cas fingers slipped away, and Dean's whimper at their loss changed into a drawn out moan when Cas' cock replaced them, pushing in hard and bottoming out before Dean had time to adjust. Dean's arms buckled and he fell forward onto his elbows, gasping for air. The burn and pain mingled with the relief of finally having Cas inside him, and he didn't hesitate to start rolling his hips against the body behind him, taking the pain with the pleasure. Both of Cas' hands ran up his back, their touch like firebrands against Dean's skin, and he anchored onto Dean's shoulders before he started to fuck steadily up into him, setting a brutally hard pace.

"You're going to come on my cock, little demon," Cas hissed, punctuating his statement with a thrust into Dean's prostate, "but only when I say." Dean nodded, unable to form words through the little noises of pleasure in his throat. He could feel the heat off of Cas' grace, burning at the demon inside him, but the pain only seemed to magnify the pleasure he felt every time Cas' hips slammed into Dean, burying his cock deep enough to make him see stars. The pace was quick and brutal, Cas' unrelenting thrusts pushing Dean closer and closer to the edge. Tears were streaming down his cheeks from the intensity but he didn't care, he couldn't do anything but just let Cas take what he wanted. A few well placed thrusts on his prostate had Dean keening in his throat.

"Such a needy little demon," Cas growled, dragging his nails over Dean's back and down over his ribs, digging into the sensitive skin there.

"Cas, so close, please..." he begged. Cas leaned over him, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

"You want it?" he purred, his hips never stopping their relentless thrusts.

"Please, Angel, please," he begged shamelessly. Cas' teeth bit into Dean's skin again, a new trickle of blood flowing down over his shoulder.

"Come for me," he breathed against Dean's new wound, and Dean was gone, spilling his second release against the bed with a shout as he felt Cas' hips still, his cock pulsing warm liquid deep inside him. Cas turned Dean's head for a sloppy kiss, and he could taste the coppery taint of his blood on Cas' tongue but he didn't care. Both of them fell sideways on the bed, Cas still buried inside Dean, his arms vice like in their grip on his chest, and Dean succumbed to the blackness pulling at his vision.

When Dean woke he was alone, the motel room cold and dark. He sat up, tilting his head to see where Cas had bitten him only to find all his wounds had been healed and he was clean, no trace of their sex on his skin. _Dammit, Cas_. He stood, amazed to feel no pain, walking over to the mirror. They were his eyes looking back at him, no trace of the demon, and Dean took a deep breath, looking down at the Mark on his arm. It was as quiet as it got these days, and he sighed heavily, walking back to bed and dropping down on the edge. He felt dirty, like he'd used Cas in some way, abused their strange bond to get what he needed. The voice of the demon in the back of his mind rose to the surface.

_But you'd do it all again..._

**Author's Note:**

> "Day of the Dead"- Hollywood Undead  
> https://youtu.be/5mOn1k4M2mU


End file.
